Coming to an Understanding
by ChiharuSato22
Summary: Lavi is just barely understanding. In fact, the entire concept in itself is new to him. This can't be the answer, though...can it?


Lavi had always thought those feelings towards Allen had been some sort of jealousy. After all, it wasn't hard to be jealous of him. He had gifted with many things, among others—the easy smile that graced his lips, an innocent mind, a soft, heart-warming laugh, beautiful, striking blue-gray eyes only enhanced by his pale complexion and silvery white hair—he was beautiful. But, it wasn't jealousy. No, Lavi was sure, now, that it wasn't jealousy. It never had been for when someone envies they feel spite and wish they had what the other had but, no, he didn't wish for Allen's attributes, simply Allen. This realizatoin was shocking to Lavi. Shocking may very well be an understatement in this case.

Lavi, Bookman Junior, or whatever you wish to call him, found himself inexplicably drawn towards a character he shouldn't have been—the Destroyer of Time. His original thoughts on the matter must have been that the title "Destroyer of Time" intrigued him and had spurred his interest in the boy but, once again, his speculation proved itself wrong.

Before they had met, Lavi had pictured the Destroyer of Time to be someone old or, at least, full grown. He had never expected someone three years his younger and so graceful, loving, and driven. He had always thought the Destroyer of Time to be some sort of nasty creature with fangs and an evil smirk but he had been an innocent child with the naivety of a lamb—nothing like Lavi had thought. So, he thoughtfully confluded that the Destroyer of Time was not the reason he was unexplainably attracted to Allen.

He had speculated that it may have been the fact that he was likely the incarnation or relation of the Fourteenth Noah but then he also remembered how much it scared him to think that Allen may soon lose himself to the Fourteenth Noah. That was not it either.

Lavi was a Historian—it was his job to know things and to record things. He couldn't record something he could not understand. His comprehension of feelings and emotions was near zero. He hardly held onto emotions, discarding them with every persona he took on. Lavi, his forty-ninth alias, had become special to him, though—he had grown attached to it. And, it was all because of Allen and his endearing mannerisms that couldn't help but pull Lavi in like a magnet all the while drawing in Bookman Junior, too. Of course, this was all illogical thinking because Allen was doing this unconsciously.

This was dangerous territory for Lavi—a Bookman had no need for feelings or emotions for when you cared for something or someone or grew attached, you held opinions in bias and this influenced in what manner you recorded history. History was not biased and Bookman stood from an outward stance—watching the world from far away—and never took sides. He knew being in the Black Order was all a coincidence. They were only there to record another part of history and the prophecy of the Destroyer of Time had peaked Grandpa Bookman's interests so they had set off here. But, being here, Lavi had grown to appreciate companionship and to care for his companions enough to discard his life but, mostly, he had grown to care about Allen Walker more than he should have—no, at all because a Bookman should never feel.

There was only one last conclusion Lavi knew but didn't dare contemplate. It wasn't possible...was it? He had to consider it carefully—even slight miscalculation would be disastrous. But, he could only consider so much. There was no formula or blueprint for love.

He thought about it carefully, pacing back and forth in the vacant room as he did so. What was love?

An incoherent train of thought wormed its way into Lavi's mind—he could see images of Allen Walker smiling and it made his heart warm in a most peculiar fashion. Another image flashed past his mind's eye—it was when Allen had nearly been killed by Tyki Mikk and only the cards (particularly the Ace of Spades), a button from Allen's coat, and the signs of distraught were present when they had arrived. Lavi had known that there was nothing he could have done—nothing he could have prevented—yet he felt guilty and it made no sense. Though he presented himself a fool, he was not stupid. And, being so, he could derive no alternate conclusion from his irrational thoughts—he was in love with Allen Walker, the Destroyer of Time, and the possible candidate for the Fourteenth Noah.

This was even more dangerous territory. Love was a game that raptured and controlled—a Bookman had no need for those things. He had the responsibility of carrying on the Bookman name and, as Bookman's successor, he had to fulfill his duty. He couldn't turn his back on that because of some trivial thoughts and irrationality.

He knew, though, that these feelings that welled up in his chest every time he was near Allen or even whenever Allen's name was brought to his attention. These feelings that ripped him apart and deprived him of nights and nights of sleep weren't trivial. These emotions that made him ready to throw everything to the wind and jump weren't trivial. He was already in too deep, he realized. He had always been in too deep for his own good. Now, he couldn't pull himself away.

But, he had to. In order to do what he had to do, he had to forget the ridiculous notion of emotions—he had to disregard his love for Allen Walker and pull himself out of the hole he had dug himself into. He hadn't a choice in the matter, anyway. He wasn't willing to throw away his comfortable path of becoming a Bookman to chase after a possibly unreciprocated feeling of love towards another male, no less. It wasn't the fact that Allen was male. Even if he was female, it would be the same. He just couldn't leave his comfort zone for this incomprehensible feelings...or could he? Was he willing to give everything up and follow nothing but his heart? It made no sense to him, but love didn't often make sense, or so he had heard. Was it worth it, in the end?

For once, he knew the answer to that—yes. And, he was going to do just that, consequences be damned. He had fallen in love.


End file.
